


Steady Love

by TimeMermaid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Bottom Sam, Hand Jobs, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Pining Dean, Sam Leaves for Stanford, Stanford Era, Top Dean, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:23:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeMermaid/pseuds/TimeMermaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never staying in one place long enough to make real friends, the Winchester boys grow up incredibly close to each other. Questionably close, according to their father. When Sam finishes high school he heads to college, leaving his old life, big brother Dean included, behind him. After 4 years of virtually no contact, a phone call from Uncle Bobby informing Dean that Sam is engaged forces Dean to face his long-denied feelings and decide what to do about them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll Look After You

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Hushicho](http://hushiart.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful art and [cameandgavewithouttaking](http://cameandgavewithouttaking.tumblr.com/) for betaing.
> 
> Story and chapter titles taken from the song I'll Look After You by The Fray.

“Just for tonight?” Pleads a soft voice from the doorway.

Dean flops the car magazine he’s been browsing in bed onto his lap, eyes drifting up to meet to his 8-year-old little brother. Sam is standing in the doorway, practically swimming in Dean’s hand-me-down plaid pajamas, but far be it from their father to waste perfectly good money on clothes for two growing boys when he could spend it on booze. 

“Please, Dean?” Sam puts on the saddest puppy dog face he can muster, and Dean feels his chest tighten.

“Fine. But tomorrow you’re in your own bed. This bed ain’t big enough for both of us,” Dean pretends to gripe as he tosses the magazine to the floor. He scoots up against the wall and pulls the covers back, making room for his little brother.

Sam climbs in next to Dean with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Thanks, De. Uncle Bobby’s house is scary at night.”

Dean reaches across the bed and turns off the lamp on the rickety nightstand. “Ain’t worse than any of the motels we always stay at.”

“Dad is meaner at Uncle Bobby’s.” Sam’s voice is soft and sad. He’s not old enough to know that what he means is “drinks more.” In the seven years since his wife died, John Winchester had become a traveling drunk, holing up in the cheapest, scummiest motels the country had to offer while taking odd jobs wherever he could get them. When things got really tough, he would haul his sons to their uncle’s house in South Dakota, where he could drink worry free for a few days until he pulled himself together again.

Dean glances over at Sam’s face but can’t make out his expression in the darkness. “It’s okay, kiddo,” Dean tries bravely, “I’m sure we’ll be back on the road before we know it.” He reaches over and tousles his brother’s hair.

Sam is quiet and still for a moment, until he feels Dean’s fingers in his hair again. They’re softer this time, slower, and Sam takes the invitation to roll onto his side and curl into Dean’s chest. Their breathing slows as they relax into each other, limbs carelessly slotting together as they drift off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell?” John booms angrily as the bedroom door swings open.  The early morning sun spills into the room from a window in the hallway.

Sam and Dean startle awake, limbs flying as they hastily untangle themselves.

“Don’t you boys spend enough time together? Can’t even handle one night in separate beds?” John continues berating as he steps into the room.

Sam practically jumps out of the bed. “Sorry, dad-” he starts, but Dean interrupts him.

“It’s my fault.” Dean interjects quickly.  “I was showing Sammy some car stuff and we fell asleep.” Dean scrambles to the edge of the bed and picks up the magazine from the floor as evidence.

John snatches the magazine out of Dean’s hand, glancing at it before glaring at his sons. “Wash up and come downstairs,” he spits out, “Uncle Bobby was nice enough to make you little brats breakfast.”


	2. What's Mine Is Yours To Make Your Own

It’s a warm May afternoon and Dean is leaning against the fence of whatever school Sam’s at this month. East Someplace Junior High, Middle of Nowhere, Montana.

Kids pour out of the building, yelling, laughing, running. When Dean spots him, Sam is alone, trudging down the stairs with his eyes on the ground. 

“Sam! Hey Sammy!” Dean calls out, waving casually.

He looks up in surprise and walks over to his older brother, a slight smile on his face as he glances around to see if any of his classmates are watching.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were working with dad today?” Sam asks as they start the 3-mile walk back to their motel.

“The owner of this place doesn’t like me working too much since I’m only sixteen.” Dean pauses for dramatic effect. “Plus it’s your birthday.” He winks down at Sam and smirks.  His smile grows as his little brother’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, but Sam doesn’t respond. “How was it?” Dean presses.

“How was what?” Sam replies lost in his thoughts.

“Your birthday, doofus,” Dean teases.

“Oh. Fine,”  Sam mutters.

“Just fine?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam’s voice gets louder. “Birthdays are only fun if you have friends to spend them with.”

“You got friends. What about that Joe kid you did that science project with? Or that other kid… Kevin? That you helped with the math test?”

“They’re not my friends, Dean.” The sadness in Sam’s voice makes Dean’s chest hurt. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll be gone in a few weeks anyway.”

Dean wishes he could offer Sam some comfort, but he knows his brother is right.

“Only four more years ‘til I can drop out of school like you,” Sam muses.

“Hey.” Dean huffs as he stops dead in his track. He grabs Sam’s arm and forces him to turn and face him. “You are not dropping out, you hear me?”

Sam looks up at his brother, hazel eyes filled with confusion. “Why not?”

“Because you’re smart, Sammy. And you can be something… anything…” Dean struggles to find the right words. “You don’t have to be like me and dad.”

Sam furrows his brow, even more confused. “You’re nothing like dad.”

Dean is surprised at the sense of relief he feels when he hears those words. “Well, you still can’t drop out of school when you turn sixteen. Got it?”

Sam stares at his brother, trying to read all the emotions on his face. “G-got it,” he replies softly.

“Good. Now, there’s something I wanted to give you.” Dean pauses and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “This was mom’s. Uncle Bobby kept it after she died and gave it to me when I turned twelve. You’re twelve now so I think you should have it.”

Sam’s eyes widen, looking at the ring in Dean’s hand, then Dean’s face, then back to the ring. “Dean… why?”

“Because you’re old enough now, Sammy.”

“But don’t you want it?”

“I do, but I want you to have it more.” The usual teenage bravado is gone from Dean’s voice. He looks down at the ground, cheeks turning pink.

Sam smiles at Dean’s sudden bashfulness, forgetting about his classmates or anyone else who might be watching as he leans up and plants a soft kiss on Dean’s freckled cheek. “Thanks, De.” The sound of Sam’s childhood nickname for him makes Dean’s stomach flip flop. He watches with reverence as Sam slides the ring onto his middle finger, where it fits best.

Even though they both know they’re too old for it now, they walk the rest of the way to the motel hand in hand.


	3. If Ever There Was A Doubt

“We’ve already seen this episode,” Dean grumbles as Sam stops channel surfing and settles on Matlock.

“I don’t care. I like this show.”

Dean sighs audibly.

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you just go out with your girlfriend?” Sam asks, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“Cassie isn’t my girlfriend, ok? We hung out once. Let it go, will you?”

“Well… Maybe I’ll go out with a girl,” Sam says matter-of-factly, glancing at Dean to gauge his reaction.

Dean scoffs. “Very funny.”

“I could if I wanted to, you know.” Sam looks over at his brother, enjoying the look of confusion on his face. He continues, “There’s this girl in my English that likes me. Amelia.”

“What kind of name is Amelia?” Dean asks, making a face of disgust.

“I think it’s a nice name… And I think she’s pretty.” Sam continues baiting his brother.

“Well then why don’t you go out with her instead of wasting your Saturday night with your brother?” Dean spits back.

Sam is quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to navigate the situation. “I… I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Dean quickly glances at Sam, but then focuses on the TV again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve never been on a date before. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do.” He waits for Dean to say something, but when he doesn’t, Sam continues. “I… I don’t even know how to kiss.”

“What are you talking about? You’re fourteen. You’re supposed to know how to kiss by now.” Dean refuses to take his eyes off the TV, afraid that they’ll betray him and reveal his true feelings.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Sam stares at Dean until Dean finally meets his gaze. They sit in silence for a moment, both of them contemplating the next step in the bizarre dance they’ve been doing for at least two years.

This is his little brother, if this is going to happen, he needs to be sure it’s what Sammy wants. “So?” Dean finally asks.

“So… Will you show me?” Sam replies timidly. 

Dean’s heart stops for a second. This is happening. “I guess.” He tries to sound casual as he scoots towards the center of the sofa. Sam meets him there, sitting close enough that their thighs touch. Dean feels like his skin is on fire there, even through two layers of clothes. “You gotta make sure she’s into it first.”

“Okay.” Sam nods intently.

“And you wanna, uh, touch her face…” Sam’s hazel eyes pierce straight through Dean and he feels his stomach drop. He’s been with plenty of girls before and he was never really nervous with any of them. He’s sure Sam is going to think something is seriously wrong with him if he can’t get it together.

“Like this, De?” Sam asks softly as he awkwardly places his hand on Dean’s cheek.

“No. Like this.” Dean carefully places his hand on his brother’s cheek, and then gently runs his finger’s through his hair.  He hears Sam’s breath catch for a second, and in an instant Sam’s lips are pressed to his. It’s so chaste and sweet, and yet Dean’s heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest. His fingers linger in Sam’s hair, and he can’t stop himself from tightening his grip a little. Sam moans against Dean’s lips, and suddenly they’re kissing in earnest. It’s pretty bad. Sloppy and awkward and a little painful when their teeth knock together, but it doesn’t matter.  It feels perfect, like a breath of fresh air after they’ve been trapped in a cage their whole lives.

Suddenly Sam pulls away, looking like a deer in headlights. “De…”

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s ok, Sammy.” Dean tries to comfort him as he cards his fingers through Sam’s hair.

Before Dean can finish his thought, they hear the key turn in the lock and the motel room door swings open. The boys barely have enough time to move to opposite sides of the sofa as John comes barreling in.

He stops and stares at them, faces red in the glow of the TV. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“Nothing.” Dean replies quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Just watching TV, Dad,” Sam adds, absentmindedly fidgeting with his mother’s ring. Now on his ring finger, he turns it around on his finger whenever he’s lying, a tell that thankfully only Dean has picked up on.

John grunts as he stumbles towards the bathroom. “Dean, you’re picking up my shift at the garage tomorrow. And don’t think you get to keep any of that money!”

Dean sighs and slumps in his spot on the sofa, used to this sequence of events. He knows he could leave, but he would never leave Sam alone with their father, and Sam would be too scared to leave with him. So he stays, flashing Sam a smile to reassure him that everything is fine.


	4. Forget The Urgency

Sam is straddling Dean’s lap, rutting against his older brother through too many layers of clothing as they exchange slow, passionate kisses. Dean’s hands roam underneath Sam’s shirt, his rough hands gripping and stroking Sam’s soft skin and eliciting obscene noises from the younger boy. There’s not a lot of room in Dean’s 1967 Chevy Impala, but the boys make it work, taking full advantage of their time alone together.

It’s been two years since their first kiss, and their initial nervousness and hesitation has long since waned. They’ve grown accustomed to secretive flirtatious glances in public, stealing hurried kisses in bathrooms or sometimes even only a few feet away from their father, just out of eyesight. It’s an exhilarating game they play, but it never goes further than this; the dry humping in Dean’s car on a Saturday night.

Dean moves one had to Sam’s head, running his fingers through Sam’s soft, chestnut hair before tugging it just how Sam likes. He smiles against Sam’s spit-slicked lips when his brother lets out a choked moan. A light from the parking lot illuminates the watch on Dean’s wrist, and when he opens his eyes he notices the time.

“Shit,” he says, pulling his swollen lips away from Sam’s, “We better head in or we’re gonna miss the movie.”

Sam lets out an annoyed sigh. “Who cares about the stupid movie, Dean?” He leans in to keep kissing his brother, but Dean firmly places his hands on Sam’s hips and gently pushes him away.

“Come on, Sam. We never get to go to the movies,” Dean pleads. Even though he’s twenty, his dad still takes most of his paychecks to cover ‘room and board’. Dean knows the motels they stay at and the food they eat don’t cost nearly that much, but he doesn’t fight it. As long as he can squirrel away enough money to take care of his car and take his brother out every now and then, he’s happy.

Sam sighs again as he hauls himself off his brother’s lap. “Fine. Let’s go see the movie.” Dean smiles and leans over to give his brother an appreciative peck on the cheek. The boys take a minute to adjust themselves and let normal blood flow resume to the rest of their bodies before getting out of the car and walking to the theater. It takes them a couple minutes since Dean always parks as far away from the other cars as possible for maximum privacy.

“What’s the special occasion, anyway?” Sam asks as Dean holds the theater door open for him.

“Just wanted to celebrate how good you’ve been doing in school.” Dean bumps his shoulder against Sam’s affectionately and Sam blushes. “Besides, you know I wouldn’t a miss a brand new Star Wars movie,” Dean grins as they step over to the ticket booth.

“Well what do you know? Looks like Winchester’s got a boyfriend.”

The brothers turn around in unison, glaring at the typical jock-looking boy who just spoke. Sam recognizes him from his math class, and some other boys he recognizes from school stand around him, snickering.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam replies bluntly, “he’s my brother.”

This only draws more jeers from the group of boys.

“Winchester’s on a date with his brother,” one of them taunts, causing the others to dissolve into laughter. A couple of the boys make exaggerated kissing noises.

“Hey! Fuck off, assholes!” Dean barks, stepping towards the group.

“Or what?” The first kid replies, stepping forward to meet Dean.

Dean snarls and pushes the kid, knocking him backwards into a couple of the other boys.

“Dean. Stop.” Sam reaches out and grabs Dean’s arm. When Dean looks at him, Sam looks wounded, face red with embarrassment instead of the soft pink blush that Dean had so successfully caused to spread on his little brother’s cheeks only minutes ago. Dean pulls away from the kid.

“Yeah. You better stop before you upset your girlfriend,” the boy taunts smugly, staring Dean right in the eyes.

Dean clenches his fists and stares back the kid, his blood boiling. He wants to punch the stupid jock square in the fucking jaw, knows it would knock the kid flat on his ass and send his idiot friends running. But he also knows it would just make things worse for Sam come Monday.

Sam breaks the tense silence. “Forget the movie,” he pleads softly, “let’s just go home.”

As disappointing as Sam’s request is to Dean, he can’t say no to him at this point. He can’t stand to see his little brother looking so pained and mortified. So Dean nods silently and they leave the theater, Sam’s classmates laughing behind them as they go.


	5. So Few Come And Don't Go

“Dean! Get yer ass over here!” Bobby shouts from his porch. Sam stands next to him, a couple of duffle bags at his feet.

After a few moments Dean emerges from Bobby’s garage, wiping his grease-covered hands on a rag as he walks over. “What’s up?” he asks casually, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his brother.

“What’s up,” Bobby replies impatiently, “is that I’m about to take your brother to the bus station and you oughta say goodbye.” Neither of them say anything, so Bobby continues. “Ya know, I think I left my keys in the house. Be right back.” He shoots both of them dirty looks before leaving them alone on the porch.

“So that’s it then? Off to Stanford?” Dean leans against the railing, squinting against the glare of the mid-afternoon sun.

“What do you want me to do, Dean? Stay here and work on cars with you and Bobby?” Sam’s patience for this conversation had diminished weeks ago, right around the time John took off for Nebraska without a word to either of them. The brothers’ sexual escapades had grown fewer and farther between, and in his senior year Sam had even chosen to go to a couple of his high school football games over spending time with his brother.

“Would that be so bad?” Dean finally looks at his brother, eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

Sam sighs softly. “It wouldn’t be bad, but it’s not what I want.”

“I know,” Dean replies, casting his eyes on the worn floorboards of the porch. “Just wish you didn’t have to go so far.”

“I’ll be back for Thanksgiving,” Sam offers optimistically. “Promise.”

Dean smiles softly, but when he looks at his brother again he notices the flash of silver of Sam fidgeting with their mother’s ring. “Right. See you at Thanksgiving then,” he says flatly. He turns walks back to the garage, knowing his little brother is already hundreds of miles away from him in his heart.

 


	6. My Heart Has Started To Separate

Dean stands outside a bar in Palo Alto, looking down at the piece of paper in his hand that he scribbled on when Uncle Bobby called a couple weeks ago. As if on cue, Sam steps into view. It’s his smile as he laughs at some undoubtedly stupid joke that catches Dean’s eye, and he looks happier than Dean remembers him. Taller, too, with his now muscular frame accentuated by a grey blazer. He clearly has a lot of friends now, judging by all the people he’s talking to, and Dean immediately feels guilty about how surprising that is to him. Dean is frozen, staring at his little brother that he hasn’t seen in about four years through the window of some shitty bar. Dean almost forgets that he’s here for an engagement party, until he sees Sam kiss a pretty blonde girl. It feels like a punch in the stomach, and he thinks he might throw up. 

He walks into the bar and makes a beeline for the back, where a neon sign proclaims “Restrooms.” He locks himself in a stall, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. Maybe this was a mistake. It’s not like he was actually invited, after all. Sam didn’t invite him or their dad, but leaving their dad out was different, since not even Uncle Bobby knew how to get in touch with him anymore. Dean could sneak out right now and Sam would never even know he was here, wouldn’t even miss him. He mulls this option over as he emerges from the stall, thankfully without throwing up. But this is his little brother. He should be happy. What’s wrong with him? Dean questions his reflection in the mirror before splashing some cold water on his face. He dries his face with a paper towel, hearing the bathroom door open as he tosses it in the trash.

Sam walks in and freezes, for a split second his face showing the happiness and warmth Dean had been dreaming of. He remembers those innocent hazel eyes asking to share his bed for the night, the sad eyes of a child with no friends to celebrate his birthday with, the playful eyes of a boy asking him to show him how to kiss for the first time, the lustful eyes of a horny teenager asking him for more, the deceitful eyes of a brother who never came home for Thanksgiving. All of it flashes through Dean’s mind in an instant, but he realizes the angle’s all wrong now, and Sam is actually taller than him. And Sam’s face is contorted in shock and.... disgust? Was that disgust? Dean knew this was a mistake. He should have ran for the door when he had the chance...

"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?" Sam finally spits out.

Dean snaps out of it, his trademark shit-eating grin spreading across his face at record speed. He’s come this far, he might as well go all the way. "Heya Sammy. Didn't think I'd miss my little brother's engagement party, did you?"

Sam visibly cringes at Dean's fake enthusiasm, but Dean pushes on, stepping forward to clap Sam's shoulder. "Congrats dude." Without a second thought Dean pulls him close for a hug, wraps his arms around Sam like he's done it every day for the past four years. Sam stands stiff, arms at his side, refusing to return the hug. But he doesn't pull away. Not until he feels Dean's head turn a fraction of a centimeter and hears the low, soft sound of Dean inhaling the scent of his hair. It's too much. 

"Dude, how did you even know about this?" Sam demands, stepping out of Dean's embrace. 

"Uncle Bobby called. Guess he was the only one who remembered to fill me in." The hostility seeps out of Dean’s voice despite his best efforts to conceal it. 

"Yeah. Well..." Sam scrambles for a witty response, but his mind can't process anything besides Dean's green eyes piercing into him. His eyes dart down. "Didn't think this was your sort of scene."

"Course it is, Sammy." The grin is back. "So you gonna introduce me to your bride-to-be or do I hafta make my own introduction?"

Sam's eyes widen in horror. "No. No. Just let me take a leak, man."

"Sure thing." 

When he finishes, Sam walks over to the sink to wash his hands, acutely aware of Dean’s gaze as he leans against the doorframe. Fine. If Dean wants to pretend like everything’s fine, Sam can too.

“You’ll never guess who I found in the bathroom,” Sam proclaims with as much enthusiasm as he can muster as he saunters towards Jess.

“Who?” She asks.

“Dean.” Sam puts his hand on Dean’s on shoulder and nudges him towards Jess.

“Oh my god! Dean!” Jess practically squeals in delight as she pulls Dean in for a hug as if they’re long lost friends. It throws Dean off, but he goes with it and returns the hug. He’s not about to drop the charade so soon. “I didn’t know you were coming!" 

“Neither did Sam. Thought I’d surprise you guys.” Dean glances at Sam, both of them with fake smiles plastered on their faces.

“Where are you staying?” Jess asks, eyes full of genuine kindness. Dean can see why Sam would go for a girl like her.

“Uh…. Dunno yet. Just got into town.”

“Oh, you have to stay with us then!” Jess proclaims.

“You sure? Wouldn’t want to impose on you two lovebirds.” Again Dean catches Sam eye, but he can’t read him.

“Don’t be silly! You’re family, Dean. You won’t be imposing at all. Now, what are you drinking?”

 

* * *

 

"Don't you think 22 is a bit young to get married?" Dean asks, words slurring a bit as he sips a glass of whiskey on Sam and Jess’s sofa. He can’t remember how many glasses he’s had, but he’s pretty sure Jess went to bed at least half an hour ago.

"No. If you know what you want, you should go for it." Sam sits on the opposite side of the sofa, nursing a bottle of his favorite beer.

"And this.... This is what you want?" Dean stares into his glass, swirling the amber liquid around. 

"Yes." Sam replies, voice full of confidence as he makes sure to look Dean square in the eyes.

Then Dean notices the flash of silver as Sam turns their mother’s ring, now on his pinky finger. Before he can stop himself he’s on Sam’s side of the sofa with his lips on Sam's. It's angry and sloppy, too much teeth and frantic grabbing of clothing. "Liar," Dean growls angrily as he breaks their kiss. 

"Jesus, Dean." Sam's face swirls with anger and fear as he pushes Dean away from him and stands up. He puts his beer down on the coffee table and turns his back to Dean, rubbing his face as he tries to clear his head and his lips attempt to regain feeling. 

Dean sets down his glass with a dull thud, the silence making him grow angrier by the second. "Well?"

"Well what, Dean?" Sam spits out angrily as he turns to finally face his brother. "I'm getting married. And you're my brother. We can't do this shit anymore."

"Says who?" Dean's voice is calm but insistent as he stands up. 

"My fucking fiancé, for one." Sam flings his arm as he gestures towards the bedroom, but Dean reaches out and grabs Sam's hand, lowering it slowly. Sam stills, staring at Dean as he slots their fingers together. And Dean sees him again, the scared little brother seeking comfort and guidance.  He runs his fingertip over the cool band of metal on Sam’s pinky. 

"De..." Is all Sam can manage, voice dripping with sadness, and fear, and longing. He leans in and presses his lips to Dean's, soft and sweet, just like the first time. Dean closes his eyes and sighs. His sweet little brother. His eyes flutter open when Sam pulls away. 

"You know this is wrong..." Sam insists, but he doesn't move, and keeps stroking the back of Dean’s hand with his fingertips. 

"Who you trying convince, kid?" The corners of Dean's mouth curl in a mischievous smile, but his eyes are kind.

Sam’s only response is a sad smile as he leans in to kiss Dean again. It’s more deliberate this time, calculated, and it dawns on Dean that his brother seems to have had a significant amount of practice since he was a teenager. Just when the thought is enough to make Dean pull away in disgust, he feels Sam’s free hand in his hair, tugging a little to tilt his head so they can kiss deeper. He suddenly doesn’t care how many people Sam had to practice on; it was worth it because the kid is good now. Really good. Dean lets go of Sam’s hand and reaches up to unbutton Sam’s shirt.

Immediately Sam breaks their kiss. “Stop.”

Dean does as Sam asks. “What’s wrong?”

Sam stares into his brother’s eyes, pupils dilated with lust but he can still see circles of piercing, brilliant green around them. He can’t stop himself from kissing Dean again, doesn’t want to stop any of this, really, but he has to. “Jess. She’s right there. If she walks out and sees us… she’d be devastated, Dean, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Dean nods with understanding. He’s waited this long, one more night won’t kill him. “You’re right. Let’s talk everything out in the morning.”

Sam smiles with gratitude. “Okay. Goodnight.” He kisses his brother tenderly.

“Night, Sammy.” They exchange a few more small kisses before Sam is finally able to make himself go to the bedroom.

Dean falls asleep on the sofa, a smile on his face. Maybe coming to Palo Alto was the best decision he ever made.

  

* * *

 

Dean wakes up to the sounds of Sam and Jess making breakfast. It isn’t until he smells bacon that he walks into the kitchen.

Jess sees him first. “Good morning. You sleep ok?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods, rubbing his head.

Sam turns around and laughs. “Looking a little rough there, old man.” He picks up a bottle of aspirin off the counter and hands it to Dean.

“Shut up,” he says dryly as he takes the bottle. He takes four pills and washes them down with a glass of orange juice Jess sets in front of him. 

“There’s coffee in the pot,” she informs him before turning to Sam. “If I don’t get dressed, I’m gonna be late for work.”

“I know, I know. Get outta here.” Sam playfully smacks her butt as she runs out of the kitchen giggling. Luckily she doesn’t catch the horrified face Dean makes.

“Whenever you’re ready I’ll take you back to your car,” Sam says nonchalantly as he sips his coffee.

“What?” Sam’s statement catches Dean off guard.

He senses Dean’s confusion so he attempts to clarify, “Your car. That you left at the bar last night. If you leave before noon you can pull over and sleep for a few hours tonight and still be back in Sioux Falls by Monday morning.” Dean keeps looking at him like he’s speaking a foreign language, so he continues.  “You’re still in Sioux Falls, right? Uncle Bobby said you were working for a friend of his the last time I-”

“You think I’m leaving?”

Sam is taken aback. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I know we had a lot to drink last night but there’s no way you don’t remember… ”

Sam understands the confusion now. “I remember, Dean, but I’m still engaged. I still love Jess and want to marry her.”

Dean thinks his heart breaking makes an audible sound, something similar to glass shattering. He can’t speak. He doesn’t move. He looks at Sam’s hands for a telling flash of silver, but they’re motionless, still gripping the mug of coffee now on the counter. When Dean regains his senses, he’s livid. “Then what the fuck was all that about last night? Why did you kiss me?” 

“Shhh!” Sam hisses, glancing in the direction of the kitchen doorway. “You kissed me first,” he whispers.

“I-I kissed you first, that’s your explanation?” Dean’s eyes widen in disbelief. “We said we were gonna talk about things today. I thought…” his voice trails off, the disappointment audible.

“Like you said, we both had a lot to drink…” Sam continues his attempt at excuses.

Dean throws his hands up in exasperation. “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. Just like when you left for Stanford and said you’d be back for Thanksgiving.”

Sam looks hurt. “Is that what this is about? Thanksgiving? 4 years ago? I had exams to study for, Dean. And not a lot of extra money to spend on bus tickets. I pretty much lived on PB and J my whole freshman year.”

“You know I would have bought you a ticket if you asked. I would have worked overtime or got a second job or whatever. And that doesn’t explain why you never even fucking called.” Dean’s voice is filled with resentment.

Sam had known for four years that they would have this conversation eventually, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I didn’t know what to say back then, Dean. You’re the one who always told me I could be something, anything. And then when I tried, you were angrier than dad.”

“I wasn’t angry about you going to college, Sam. God, you have no idea how proud I was of you.” Dean’s eyes plead with Sam to understand. “But did you ever stop and think how hard it was for me? Dad didn’t want anything to do with me, and then you left me the first chance you got. You were all I had, Sam, and you couldn’t get far enough away from me. And I never understood why.” It’s a question, but Dean doesn’t phrase it as such, afraid of the answer.

Sam takes a deep breath. “Because of last night. Because when I’m with you, I feel things… Things that are wrong.” He closes his eyes to avoid looking at his brother. It’s a truth Sam has been running from since he was a boy, and admitting it is painful to him.

Dean, however, feels his heart warm again. “I know, Sammy. I feel the same way, but I don’t think it’s wrong,” he replies softly as he starts to walk towards Sam.

Sam’s eyes shoot open. “Don’t.” The look on his face is serious and Dean freezes. Dean feels like he’s going to get emotional whiplash from this conversation.

“What do you want from me, Sammy?” All of Dean’s anger is gone, and all Sam can hear in his voice is resignation.

“I don’t know,” Sam admits, suddenly feeling like cornered animal. “I don’t know how to just be your brother.”

“So you wanna stop talking again? Go back to acting like we don’t exist to each other?” Neither of them is sure if Dean is being sarcastic or genuine. They sit in silence for a moment before Dean speaks again. “I just want you to be happy, Sam.”

“I want you to be happy too, Dean.”

Dean just shakes his head in response. He’ll never be happy with his little brother almost 2,000 miles away and married to someone else. Then it hits Dean like a ton of bricks. It’s so obvious and yet he’s been avoiding the thought as long as he can remember. He’s in love with his little brother. He feels sick to his stomach and needs to leave immediately. As if on cue, Jess walks into the kitchen again, dressed for work.

“You got time to drop me off at my car before you go to work?” Dean suddenly turns and asks her.

Jess glances at the time displayed on the microwave before responding. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“You’re leaving right now?” Sam asks, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Like you said, if I leave before noon I can be back in time for work Monday morning.” Dean looks Sam square in the eyes, face expressionless.

“Oh. Right. Okay.” Sam’s still confused, but he doesn’t want to argue anymore, and certainly not in front of Jess. He follows Dean and Jess out of the kitchen and into the living room, watching silently as Dean gathers his things. The brothers shake hands and say a cold goodbye, mostly to keep up appearances in front Jess, and Dean makes sure to walk out of the apartment first so he doesn’t have to watch Sam kiss Jess goodbye.

As soon as they get in the car, Jess starts chattering. She’s making small talk about last night’s party and some of their friends that Dean vaguely recalls meeting.

“I still can’t believe how lucky I am. Sam is such a great guy. He’s so smart and talented. And he makes me laugh like no one else I’ve ever known. Plus, he’s not too hard on the eyes,” she jokes, glancing over at Dean. He smiles politely, knowing he’s incapable of responding verbally. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Jess speaks again. “I know it means a lot to Sam that you were here last night, especially after everything that happened between you guys when you were growing up…”

Dean’s heart stops and he feels the blood drain from his face. Shit. She knows. Of course Sam told her all their secrets. Why would something like that be sacred to him? He can feel the blood rushing back now, turning his face red with anger.

“I know you pretty much raised him, since your dad wasn’t around.” Jess continues, frowning a little.

Dean looks at her blankly. “What?” he finally articulates.

“Sam always talks about what a great big brother you were, how you stayed and took care of him even after you could have left and started your own life. You should hear how he talks about you, like you were his hero.” Jess smiles at Dean, and he feels like his heart is breaking for the second time that morning.

“Really?” Dean asks softly, stunned to hear that Sam would think of him like that.

“Yeah.  And I know he’s already asked some of his friends to be groomsmen, but I’m sure there’s room in the wedding party for his brother.” Jess’s smile grows, and Dean can’t help but smile back. “Here you go,” she announces as she pulls up next to Dean’s car, the same 1967 Impala he’s been driving for the past seven years.

“Thanks,” Dean replies sincerely. He reaches across the armrest separating them and gives Jess an awkward hug. As he gets out and watches Jess drive away, he thinks that despite whatever issues he and Sam have, at least he knows his brother’s in good hands.


	7. Won't You Be The One I'll Always Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Very NSWF picture about half way through the chapter.

When the wedding invitation arrives 3 months later it’s like a slap in the face. Dean hadn’t heard a word from Sam since he left Palo Alto, so there was certainly no request to be in the wedding party. Uncle Bobby must have given Sam his address, but he can’t believe Sam would invite him, not after everything that had happened. He’s about to throw the envelope in the garbage when he notices a hand drawn heart on the back. It’s obviously not Sam’s penmanship, but he’s intrigued enough to open it. In addition to the standard wedding invitation is a hand written note from Jess.

 

            Dean,

            Sam said you don’t like weddings, but I’m sure you feel different about your brother’s. It’d be a shame if you weren’t here.

            The bachelor party is two nights before, at The Golden Goose. You should go if you get into town early enough.

            Love,

                        Jess

 

Dean doesn’t know what to make of the note. Obviously Sam doesn’t want him there, but maybe it’s an opportunity to make things right with his brother. He leaves the invitation and note on his kitchen counter and goes on with his life, telling himself he’ll think about it later.

A week before the wedding Dean goes into work and asks for the week off. It’s short notice, but he never takes time off so his boss makes it work. He gets in his car and drives to California, convinced he’s going make things right with his little brother. He books a hotel this time, and checks in the day of the bachelor party. He showers, gets ready, and heads to the bar around 11, figuring that’ll be a good time. He knows what he has to do.

Dean walks into the bar and it feels like déjà vu of the last time he was in this city to surprise his brother. He scans the room, knowing now that his brother is the ridiculously tall guy near the back of the bar. He nervously makes his way back there, trying to forget Sam’s reaction the last time he surprised him like this.

“Dean!” Sam shouts enthusiastically when he sees him. He gives his big brother a hug, and Dean returns it, smiling even though he can tell right away that Sam’s good mood is the result of how much he’s had to drink already. Sam quickly introduces him to his friends before pulling him aside.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” Sam asks almost giddily, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Jess sent me an invitation and told me about the bachelor party. Thought it was worth checking out.” Dean smiles at his brother, genuinely pleased to see him so happy. 

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Sam beams.

“Sure is. Congrats, man.” He recalls the first time he said that in the bathroom at the engagement party, when he was being disingenuous, and it makes him feel like a jerk. “Let me buy you a shot. What the hell do you drink, anyway? Besides that crap?” He points disapprovingly at the light beer in Sam’s hand.

Sam laughs loudly. “I drink whiskey.”

“Well, well, well. Looks like you’re a Winchester after all,” Dean teases as he waves down the bartender and orders two shots of Johnnie Walker.

“Why do you think I had it in my house the last time?”

Dean cringes a little at the reminder of the last time they saw each other, and is reminded of the real reason he’s here. “Listen, I wanna apologize for last time. Things got outta hand. I shouldn’t have… done what I did.” He chooses his words carefully, aware that other people might overhear them.

“Forget it. It’s in the past.” Sam says with a wave of his hand. The bartender brings the two shot glasses over and Sam picks his up. “To the future.”

“To the future,” Dean echoes. They take the shots and wince a little. 

“Good stuff,” Sam says unnecessarily, causing both of them to laugh hysterically. Dean motions for the bartender to bring them two more shots before they rejoin the rest of the party.

 

* * *

 

“There ya go, kiddo,” Dean coaxes Sam into his hotel room.

Sam stumbles forward until he reaches the bed, then flops down on his stomach with a loud grunt.

Dean chuckles as he closes the door, taking off his jacket before heading towards the bed. He kneels down and starts to take off Sam’s shoes.

“What are you doing?” Sam calls out, craning his neck around to look at Dean.

“I’m taking your shoes off. You wanna sleep with them on?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“No,” Sam admits, letting his head fall back onto the bed. Once Dean gets his shoes off he rolls himself over and starts undoing his pants. He glances at Dean and notices how alarmed he looks. “What? I thought we were getting ready for bed?”

“Yeah. Okay. Bed.” Dean replies nervously. He walks to the other side of the bed and undresses himself, occasionally glancing at Sam, who has managed to successfully remove his pants but keep his boxers on. Then Sam sits up to unbutton his shirt, his back towards Dean. Dean can’t take his eyes off him as he exposes his muscular back, transfixed by the curve of Sam’s shoulder blades. When Sam lies down again, Dean can finally see just what kind of man his little brother has grown into. Lean, yet muscular, taut skin over rippling muscles and Dean can feel something stirring in him that he promised himself he would ignore. 

Dean goes to the bathroom, and when he comes back out Sam has managed to get himself under the covers.

He looks at Dean with a sleepy smile, patting the empty space next to him. “Just for tonight?” He echoes the words of their childhood.

He wants to say no, to say he’ll sleep on the floor. Or in his car. Or anywhere else that doesn’t make his chest hurt like it does right now. But instead he climbs in silently and pulls the covers over both them before turning off the light.

“Goodnight, De,” Sam whispers.

“Night, Sammy.” Dean turns his back to him and stares into the darkness, thinking of all the beds they’ve shared in all the seedy motels throughout the country. He never thought it’d be like this, his little brother so close and yet so far after all these years, about to marry a really nice girl and go to law school while Dean was still stuck working as a mechanic in Sioux Falls. He can feel the tears brimming in his eyes and he tries to fight them back, ashamed.

“Dean?”

Suddenly he’s aware that Sam is very close to him, almost touching him. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“What, Sam?” 

“I… I don’t know… I just wanna…” Sam tries to find words, but instead he just reaches his hand out and strokes Dean’s thigh. He can feel Dean tremble under his hand, but no other movement or sound comes from his brother. Taking the silence as an invitation, he moves his hand up, gently running his thumb over the curve of Dean’s ass and then caressing his side. His longer fingers splay across Dean’s stomach, gently scratching before smoothing the pads of his finger over the soft flesh.

“Sam,” Dean pleads softly, causing Sam’s hand to still. He had come here so determined to prove to himself and Sam that he could be a good brother; that they could get past whatever this thing was between them. And yet here they are, in bed together clad in nothing but underwear with Sam’s hand on his bare skin, about to start something they had been dancing around for years. He has to be certain about whatever comes out of his mouth next. Dean turns his head towards his brother, barely able to make eye contact with him in the dark. “Don’t stop.”

Then Sam is everywhere. He kisses Dean roughly as he scoots closer to him, his chest pressed against Dean’s back as his hand roams up Dean’s chest. Sam thumbs one of Dean’s nipples, causing Dean to moan loudly. He tweaks Dean’s nipple as his tongue pushes past Dean’s lips, prodding into his mouth roughly.

Sam’s hand wanders down again and he palms Dean’s cock through his boxers. Dean groans and bucks against Sam’s hand, desperate for more. Sam continues rubbing him through the fabric as he grinds his own erection against Dean’s ass. Both men are panting and moaning, and Sam can feel a wet spot forming on Dean’s boxers from the precum. He hooks his thumb into the waistband and pulls them down enough to free Dean’s dick and balls. He cups Dean’s balls, gently rolling them in his hand and thumbing the sensitive spot just underneath. Eventually he wraps his long fingers around Dean’s cock, slowly stroking him as he rocks against his brother. He thumbs the slit, spreading Dean’s precum over the head before picking up the pace. Sam’s mouth sucks bruises on Dean’s collarbone as the brothers move against each other frantically.

“S-Sammy…” Dean moans breathlessly, “gonna cum…”

Sam jerks his brother faster, whispering softly in his ear, “Cum for me, De.”

Dean cries out, cumming hard. He’s fantasized about hearing his little brother say words like that for so long, he can’t believe it happened. As he tries to catch his breath, he realizes Sam has stopped moving, although his breath is still warm near Dean’s ear.

“De, I want you…” Sam pleads softly.

Dean turns over to face his brother, seeing him better now that his eyes have had time to adjust to the darkness. “I-I don’t know what to do, Sammy. I’ve never been with a guy before,” Dean admits sheepishly as he brushes a strand of hair out of Sam’s face.

“I’ll show you,” Sam offers. He can see the jealousy in Dean’s eyes. “I only know from porn, Dean. I’ve never been with a guy either.” Dean’s eyes soften and he kisses him tenderly.

“Okay. Show me.”

“You don’t have any lube, do you?” Sam asks.

Dean chuckles. “No, don’t usually need that.”

“Then you’re lucky I’ve had practice,” Sam replies with a playful grin, adding, “solo practice.”

The thought of what that means sends Dean’s heart racing again.

Sam lies on his back and kicks off his boxers, leaving him completely exposed. He feels Dean eyeing him, and his cock jumps against his taut stomach. “Come here,” he spreads his legs and reaches for Dean’s hand, pulling him to kneel between his legs. Sam pulls his knees towards his chest, revealing his puckered hole. Dean stares at it, breathless. Sam puts his middle finger in his mouth, making sure to get it covered in saliva before dipping between his legs. He locks eyes with Dean before carefully pushing his spit-slick finger inside. His eyes flutter close as he pushes all the way in, back arching off the bed as he starts to move it in and out. He opens his eyes to find Dean staring down at his tight hole, transfixed and mouth agape. Once he’s used to the one finger, he pulls it out. Sam’s about to stick two fingers in his mouth when Dean grabs his wrist.

“Let me.” Dean bends down and makes a show of sucking on Sam’s middle finger first, moaning as he tastes his little brother. Then he takes Sam’s index finger into his mouth as well, making sure both fingers are practically dripping with his saliva before letting go of Sam’s wrist.

Sam is already breathing heavy, and he starts panting as he slides both fingers into his hole. Even with Dean’s generous amount of spit, it’s tight without lube, but the thought of what’s to come makes it worth it. Sam starts to finger himself in earnest, fingers sliding in and out, twisting and scissoring them inside of himself. Dean continues to watch in awe, stroking Sam’s thigh in encouragement.

“Look so hot like that, Sammy,” Dean coos, bending down to tenderly kiss his inner thigh.

“Wanna stretch myself out for you, De,” Sam says, big hazel eyes blown with lust staring up at Dean.

Dean groans at Sam’s words. He just wants to be inside him already. When he looks down again he realizes Sam’s shoved a third finger inside himself. He works them in and out rapidly, desperate to get to the next part.

“I’m- I’m ready, Dean,” he announces with ragged breath as he slips his fingers out.

Dean nods and spits on his hand several times, jerking himself to get his cock as slick as possible. He scoots forward and slides his hands up Sam’s thighs until he reaches the crooks of Sam’s knees, spreading his legs further apart.

The brothers stop and stare at each other, holding their breath as they wait to see if the other will change his mind. Dean searches Sam’s face for slightest hint of uncertainty or fear, but there isn’t any, just love and desire. Slowly Dean pushes into him, Sam’s back arching off the bed with a loud cry as he closes his eyes tightly. It burns, but Sam doesn’t care, he just wants to enjoy the feeling of finally being this close to his brother. It isn’t until he feels Dean bottom out that Sam opens his eyes and sees his feeling of bliss reflected on his brother’s face. Dean leans down and kisses Sam passionately as he starts to thrust in and out. Despite the prep work, Sam is incredibly tight, and Dean becomes worried. But then he feels Sam push against him. 

“More, Dean… Please,” Sam begs.

And that’s all the encouragement Dean needs. He pounds into Sam, setting a brutal pace as he fucks into his little brother. Sam cries out, gripping Dean’s biceps so tight that his nails leave little half moon indents in Dean’s flesh. Dean grabs a fistful of Sam’s hair, pulling hard, just like he knows his little brother likes it.

“You like this? Like it when your brother fucks you?“ Dean asks through gritted teeth.

“Yes!” Sam cries out. “Fuck me, De. Fuck me!”

Dean doubles over, pressing their foreheads together as he continues to pound into his brother. They’re both so close to the edge it almost hurts, and Dean’s thrusts become more frantic.

Knowing what they both need, Sam whispers, “Cum inside me, De. Make me yours.”

Dean cums with a choked sob, the most beautiful words he ever heard come out of his little brother’s mouth echoing in his ears. Sam follows, cumming completely untouched as he feels his brother’s warmth spill inside him.

They stay like that for a moment, both men trying to catch their breath. Dean strokes Sam’s face and kisses him deeply, wanting to stay like this forever. They exchange a few more silent kisses before Dean rolls off of Sam and Sam gets up to clean himself up in the bathroom.

When he comes back, Dean is still naked but asleep. Sam crawls into bed and curls up against his brother, just like he used to do when they were kids. He falls asleep quickly.

  

* * *

 

Dean wakes up to sunlight streaming through a small gap in the curtains. It warms his chest and he stretches with a smile on his face, eyes still closed. He reaches across the bed for his brother, wanting to pull him close for a good morning kiss, but the bed is empty. His eyes shoot open and he glances around the room but sees no sign of his brother. “Sam?” he calls out hoarsely. Maybe he’s in the bathroom. “Sammy?” he calls louder as he gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom. The bathroom is, of course, empty. Dean blinks quietly as he looks around more carefully and notices all of Sam’s clothes are gone, including his shoes.

“God damn it,” he whispers softly as he rubs his face. He goes to his phone to text his brother, before realizing that they still haven’t even exchanged numbers. “God damn it, Sam,” he says louder as he fights back tears.

He throws some clothes on quickly begins throwing all his things back into his duffel bag, cursing and muttering under his breath. He can’t believe how stupid he was, letting himself be that vulnerable with Sam after all these years. Of course Sam was going to pick the beautiful blonde and law school and a normal life over his fucked up older brother. The last thing he grabs is the suit hanging in the closet, cursing himself for thinking he could even be present at Sam’s wedding without screwing things up.

He throws everything in the trunk of his car and gets in the driver seat with a loud slam of the door. He starts driving, tears blurring his vision as he tries to get out of California as fast as possible. 

Dean’s been driving in silence for an hour when he hears his phone beep. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at it, seeing that it’s a text from Uncle Bobby. He tries to read it out of the corner of his eye as he keeps driving.

            What the hell is going on over there? Sam just told me the wedding’s off.

Dean nearly hits two cars as he attempts to pull over. He reads the text again, making sure he’s understanding it correctly. His mind is going a million miles an hour and his heart is pounding. He doesn’t know what this means, but he needs to talk to Sam. Now. He reaches over to the glove compartment and pulls out the wedding invitation with Sam and Jess’s addresses written in the corner of the envelope. With shaky hands, he types the address into his phone and starts driving.

When he pulls up to Sam and Jess’s building an hour later, he’s still not entirely sure what he’s doing there. He takes a deep breath and steps out of the car, just as Sam is walking out with a duffel bag. He can tell his little brother has been crying, cheeks red and tearstained. When Sam sees him, Dean is expecting anger, but all he sees on his brother’s face is relief. The eyes of a young boy asking his brother to help him, as if somehow Sam knew deep down his big brother would be there when he needed him most. Dean walks towards him, taking the bag from Sam as he wraps an arm around him.

“Hey, Sammy,” he coos softly.

“I can’t do it, Dean. I can’t lie anymore.”

Dean nods as he ushers Sam to the passenger side of his car. He carefully puts Sam’s bag in the backseat. As Dean walks around to the driver’s side, he notices Jess standing by the door to their building, obvious that she’s been crying as well. Dean glances at Sam reassuringly before walking over to Jess.

“Hey…” he says cautiously, unsure of what Sam has told her.

“I don’t get it, Dean,” Jess starts with tears brimming in her eyes. “Yesterday everything was great, and now he says he’s living a lie and can’t marry me. What is he lying about? Did something happen last night? You can tell me.” Jess pleads, still trying to understand.

Dean pauses for a moment, making sure to choose his words carefully. “He’s got some issues he’s been running from for a long time, and he finally faced them last night.”

Jess looks confused. “What kind of issues?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s ready.” Dean looks at the ground, unable to keep eye contact with Jess when he knows he’s lying. He reaches out to rub her arm in an attempt to comfort her. “I know he cares about you a lot...” Dean trails off, not sure of what else to say.

Jess nods silently, wiping the tears off her face with her hand.

“I should go… and check on him…” Dean awkwardly gestures to his car. Jess nods again, and Dean impulsively gives her a hug. “Take care of yourself, Jess.”

“You too,” she replies, voice shaky with emotion as she weakly hugs him back.

Dean gets in car and starts driving. He’s not sure where things stand between them, but he can tell that Sam’s not in the talking mood. They drive in silence for about half an hour before Sam finally speaks. 

“I couldn’t do it, Dean. I’m not that person.” He says, staring at the road in front of them.

“Not what person?” Dean asks, confused.

“I’m not… normal. Jess deserves someone who isn’t fucked up like me.” Sam muses, shaking his head.

“Well if you’re fucked up, what does that make me? I’m a high school drop out who’s in love with his little brother.” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Dean regrets them. He glances over at Sam, trying to assess the damage.

“You- You’re in love with me?” Sam asks in disbelief. “Even after everything?”

“After what?” Dean glances back and forth between the road and his brother.

“After… after how I left you. When I went to Stanford… and again this morning…” Sam looks at him, eyes filled with regret.

Dean pulls over, not wanting to have this conversation while driving. He puts the car in park and turns to face his brother, pausing to think of all the hormone-fueled make out sessions they had shared there, sheltered from the cold, judging eyes of the world. “My feelings for you, Sam, they never wavered or went away. It took me a while to realize exactly what they were, but they’ve been constant, steady... A steady love since the day you were born,” Dean confesses. The brothers stare at each other, eyes brimming with tears.

“I love you too, Dean. And I’m sorry I left for Stanford like I did,” Sam says softly. “You’re right, I should have tried to visit or at least called or something. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just thought it would make things easier for me, to make a clean break and start a new life where maybe I could be normal. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process.”

Dean nods, taking in Sam’s words, an apology he’s needed for a long time. After a moment, he speaks again. “We can start a new life together. Go someplace new where no one knows we’re brothers. And you can still go to law school.”

Sam smiles. “I’d like that.”

Sam leans over and cups Dean’s face with both hands before kissing him. It’s soft, but passionate, and the first time they’ve kissed like that since Sam was a teenager. No alcohol, no anger, no hurry to get to the next part. Just the joy of being together in that moment, and the promise of more joy to come.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SPN/Wincest work ever and my first fic in many years. Any feedback or comments or kudos would really mean a lot to me.


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